


The Joke Was On Me

by TooVillainToBeHero



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Violence, Bombing, Child Murder, Death Threats, F/M, Graphic, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 05:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11456751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooVillainToBeHero/pseuds/TooVillainToBeHero
Summary: The Joker’s made another one of his threats, and he intends to act on it. You’re caught in the crossfire, and the Joker takes a personal interest in you. He shows you just how quickly your “loving friends and family” would abandon you if they thought you were a freak like him.





	The Joke Was On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: Ok, to be honest, this story is going to get very dark. This is meant to be a oneshot for Heath Ledger’s Joker. Once the new batman movie comes out, I’ll have a better grasp of Jared Leto’s Joker so then I might write his character :) The -’s show pauses in between words. Please, give me feedback for the first part to my Joker x reader series (I decided it was going to be way too long to be in one whole part)!

“Sorry to interrupt your morning entertainment, ladies and gentle-men. The Joker’s here to announce Gotham’s latest news. There has been an incident at Gotham Avenue School. At about two forty pm tomorrow, a school bus was bombed! The assailment hasn’t been found, but this has caused the Gotham Police Department to wonder if the so called vigilante.”

He licked his lips before continuing, ”Bat-man is really working for the good of Gotham city. The day before the attack, the terrorist had threatened to blow the bus up if Batman didn’t reveal his identity at noon. The whole situation could have been avoided if he had just complied with the bomber’s wishes.”

The Joker’s message was broadcasting across all of Gotham’s television screens. It didn’t matter what station it was on previously. The recording was shot solely on his red lipstick lathered lips. The crazed clown bent down so that his eyes were covering the camera’s view, and he laughed like a maniac.

He moved out of the camera’s view to reveal that one of his goons was duct taped up to a chair; the guy was about twenty feet away from the camera. He had a piece of tape over his mouth. The thug’s brown eyes were bloodshot. His tear ducts had previously given up on resupplying his eyes with moisture. His cheeks were still wet from the trail of tears he had cried, and his forehead was sweating immensely.

The Joker popped out from being off screen whilst carrying his signature knife in his right hand. He teasingly made a few stab movements with his knife, and the man piteously whimpered in response. The Joker stopped just a few inches from the side of the metal chair. The man tried to lean as far away as he could, and the Joker suddenly looked into the camera. “Oh! You’re probably wondering who this guy is.”

He slung his right arm around the man’s shoulder. He cried quietly, and the clown squeezed the man closer to his torso. The knife was pressed up against the thug’s neck. “This is my buddy, Anthony Aloi. Smile for the camera, Tony!”

Suddenly, the Joker’s sickening smile turned upside down, and he scowled as profoundly as his scarred lips would let him. He quickly removed his arm from around Tony’s shoulder. The fast movement made the knife nick the victim’s neck. It bleed out little trickles of blood; like a cut from shaving wound.

The psychopathic clown moved behind him. He roughly grabbed the man’s head, and he pulled it back so that his neck was exposed. He placed his knife against Tony’s jugular, and the Joker glanced up to the camera, “It truly saddens me that our friendship has to end so abruptly. You see, true friends don’t talk about each other behind their back. They don’t… take what’s not theirs. You’re not a backstabber, are you Tony?”

Tony shook his head as slightly as he could, and the Joker turned to give him a yellow toothy smile. He leaned closer so he was inches from the guy’s left ear, he licked his lips, and he said in a low tone, “You know…. Snitches get stitches-ah.”

The man’s eyes bulged out their sockets, and the camera’s audio could pick up the muffled screams coming from his taped mouth. The Joker laughed at the man’s misfortune before running his knife across Anthony’s forehead. The sharp dagger created a slanted incision. Blood started to stream out of the cut.

Tony clamped his eyes shut as he dealt with the stinging pain. The bleeding man’s head was bright red. The Joker whistled a little tune as he made another wound that intersected the last one. “X,” The Joker licked his lips, and emphasized toward Tony’s head, “marks the spot.”

He went off camera, and soon returned with a baseball bat. Tony screamed and rocked the chair back and forth worth. The chair fell backwards onto concrete. The Joker tsked at the helpless man, before quickly swinging the bat. It landed just centimeters from his head, and the guy’s tear ducts started working again. Tears came from the man’s eyes.

The Joker shook his head at Anthony before stating in a frustrated tone, “Tony, if you’d have stopped moving around, this would have ended a lot sooner.”

He brought the bat inches from Tony’s nose, and the Joker slowly raised it over his right shoulder. Then he swung down on the man’s head. A sickening crack echoed in the large abandoned warehouse. Joker’s purple coat was covered in red blotches and dots. He raised his gloved hand to carelessly wipe some of the blood off his makeup covered face. This created red lines in the white makeup that was caked on his forehead.

The Joker frowned at the dead body before looking back at the camera, “I was hoping to find some buried treasure, but life is always so disappointing. You can never truly rely on someone but yourself. Don’t forget Batman. If you don’t show everyone who you really are at noon tomorrow, Gotham will be grieving the loss of many fine young students. Catch you later, batsie. Well… if the police don’t get you first.”

The video glitched out as he guffawed hysterically, and the screens were restored back to their original stations. Usually the Joker would send them a tape, and it would find it’s way onto the news. However, this time he was able to broadcast it live across all Gotham stations. An uncensored version that would have scarred a young audience if they weren’t already in school.

The police force acted immediately, and they informed the school of the extra precautions they needed to take. However, those were fruitless attempts. Everyone knew that there was no way to stop the Joker from acting on his threat if Batman didn’t do something.

Batman didn’t comply with his nemesis’ wishes at noon, which left everyone wondering where he was and what his plan was. The Joker was forced to act on his threat. It was 2:30 in the afternoon, the time the children are released from school. Also ten minutes before tragedy strikes. Police cruisers were surrounding the school grounds, which was supposed to make this a little more challenging. However, the Joker confirmly believed that there was always a flaw in every plan.

Human nature being the flaw in this one. A few blocks away, a van exploded. A fiery cloud engulfed the street, and the police flooded over to the chaos in panic. The youngsters screamed in fear, and they ran to the buses for safety. Parents lead their children to their cars.

The Joker was in the eye of the storm. He was disguised in the sea of scurrying people. The remaining officers had no chance of spotting him. They were too busy calming down the panicked civilians. The best part was, he was already on the bus. The one place they wouldn’t think to look; the bus driver’s seat.

You were certainly driving your beat-up truck to the bus parking lot. Your job was driving school buses. Not the most exciting job in the world not to mention it doesn’t pay too good either. You had no other choice but to take this job since it was the only one you could find in Gotham.

Ever since the Joker escaped Arkham Asylum, a bunch of people moved out of town. You would think that a whole lot of job openings would come up after a huge crowd of people moved away, but no. A ton of businesses closed when those citizens abandoned town, so it was like they took their jobs with them.

You pulled into the parking lot, and all of the buses were gone except yours. Good thing your bus was always the last to leave the school. Perhaps they would cut you some slack for being a bit late. After watching the Joker’s broadcasted message as it aired, you almost took the day off. However, you needed the money bad. Your landlord wouldn’t like it if you missed another month of rent’s pay.

You parked your truck next to your yellow bus. The keys in the ignition made chiming noises as the truck stopped. You grabbed the keys before you opened the door, and you hopped out of your truck. The heavy door slammed behind you. Before getting onto the bus, you locked your truck with the keys. At this point, you don’t know why you still lock your vehicle. It’s not like anyone would want to steal it or any of it’s contents.

You climbed up the steps of the bus, and you quickly glanced over the seats. The seats were gray with a lot of duct tape fixes and gum stuck in random places. You didn’t have time to check over all the seats individually; the cops probably made sure no one was there when they searched the buses earlier. You sat in the driver’s seat, and you reached into your pocket for the keys.

They weren’t there. Panic stirred up within you as you frantically searched all of your pockets with no luck. You grabbed your purse that was on the floor, and you rummaged through the contents of the purse. An amused voice spoke up from behind you, “Are you looking for these?”

You whipped around to be face to face with the war-painted face of none other than the Joker himself. He beamed at you as he dangled the keys off of his pointer finger teasingly. You snatched the keys from his outstretched finger. You flicked open the pocket knife attached to the set of keys, and you pointed it at the terrorist. “Don- don’t move.”

The Joker put his hands up, and he feigned a fearful expression. To be honest, you were more scared than he appeared to be, and you were the one with the weapon. He jabbed his finger at the knife before stating, “You know, knives are also my weapon of choice. You just don’t get the same experience with a gun. Bam! And it’s over. No… knives make the kill much more,” He paused to lick his lips and he leaned in a little closer with a wag of his eyebrows, ”intimate. A woman after my own heart.”

He put his hand over where his heart would be. It was almost like he was taunting you considering how much your heartbeat increased. You shook your head at him, and your body shook tremendously. You had no idea what to do. Footsteps advanced up the bus stairs. You turned to see a couple of very muscular men.

Internally panicking, you whipped out a can of pepper spray from your purse. You aimed for their eyes. The spray hit its targets, and they stumbled back in shock. You took the opportunity to stab the guy closest to you in the abdomen. He hissed in pain as he fell back, bringing the other criminal with him. You moved to jump down the steps, but two hands grabbed your arms.

You were dragged backwards, and you fought against your attacker’s grip with the knife in hand. The Joker restrained your arms, and he pried the knife from your grip. You felt a pinch in your side, and you felt drowsy in seconds. You went limp, and the Joker turned you around to look at you.

The Joker smiled at you, and your eyes fluttered closed. You tried to fight the drug but to no avail. All you could see was darkness. You could tell that he was a bit out of breath. At least you put up a good struggle. He said into your ear, “You’re quite the fighter, hm? I have a feeling that we will have lots and lots of fun together, you and I.”

You blacked out before you could even comprehend what he said. The last thing you heard was his ridiculous laughter as you fell into an unconscious state.

A freezing sensation spread across your shoulders and your back. You awoke in surprise, and the stench of gasoline stung your nostrils as you struggled to regulate your breathing. Your eyes frantically started to take in your surroundings. You were in a huge open room that was in a state of disrepair.

Rubble was all over the floors along with a couple of rusted support beams. Vegetation sprouted up from the cracks in the ground; some were even crawling up the walls. Graffiti was spray-painted onto the walls in many different colors, and the windows were boarded up with only tiny lines of sunlight shining through.

You were duct taped to a rickety old wooden chair in the center of the huge room. You struggled against the chair as you screamed for help. “You can scream all you want, but no one’ll hear you, sweetheart.”

You whipped to face the Joker. The sudden movement knocked the chair off kilter, and the chair fell backwards onto the floor. Your head hit the solid floor, and your eyesight faded in and out of darkness. The psychopath circled around your fallen chair, and he mumbled to himself, “Why do the chairs always fall backwards? Next time I’ll tie’m to a pole…”

He looked at you, and he bent down so his face was just inches from yours. The Joker asked innocently, “Did ya have a nice nap? You should be thankful I didn’t let my boys knock you out with a bat. We can’t hurt that pretty little head of yours; you’d have a nasty bruise on your forehead!”

He poked your forehead to prove his point, and you flinched away from his touch. Gotham’s infamous villain frowned at your reaction, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. You watched his every move in silence. Your eyes welled up in tears as you remembered what had happened to the man on the TV, and you really didn’t want that to happen to you. The Joker stared at you as if he was waiting for your reply. You finally gave it to him with a broken voice, “What do you want?”

The Joker rolled his raccoon eyes at you, and he shook his head in disappointment. He said with frustration lining his words, “Wrong question, (y/n). People always ask the wrong questions!”

You were about to demand how he knew your name, but that was definitely the wrong question. The Joker or his goons probably searched your purse for your wallet, and they saw your driver license. You croaked a response, “What’s the right question then?”

There was a pause as he gathered his thoughts. “What do you want? What does, (y/n) (l/n), want in life?” The Joker questioned curiously.

Strange question for a strange guy; how was that question even relevant? He tilted his head at you awaiting for your answer. You closed your eyes as you felt a horrible headache start to make itself known. You let out a shaky breath before replying, “I-I don’t know. A nice job so I can help support a family in the future?”

“Wrong!” The Joker growled in your face, and you winced in fear. He wet his lips again, and he continued, “That’s what society wants you to believe. They want you to be like them, with all of their morals. Now, if they thought you were like me…A freak. They’d lock you up.”

You shook your head, and held in your tears. You have to stay strong, and keep him talking. The longer he makes conversation with you, the longer the police can look for you. If they were looking at all. Your headache pounded against your skull as you argued, “They want to lock you up again because you do terrible things. You enjoy killing people. Just like you’re going to kill me.”

He wildly laughed at your statement, and your tears finally burst onto your cheeks. You had to breathe through your mouth since your nose was now clogged up. He flashed a frown at you, and he wiped the tears off of your face with his gloved fingers. “Kill you? Nah, I’m not going to kill you. I like you. You’re a fighter. One of my guys is in the hospital because of your tiny pocket knife.”

You sniffled slightly in an attempt to keep snot from dripping down. Your voice caught in your throat, and you spoke in between deep breaths, “Then why- did you- douse me in gasoline?”

“I had a few extra gallons of gasoline I needed to use up. Sorry if I scared you, sweetheart.” He made an overly apologetic face at you before grimacing at your stained clothing. You didn’t even want to know what he was going to use the gasoline for.

You rolled your head to the side as you tried to deal with the intense pain coming from you head. You didn’t comment on his pet name for you, and you instead whispered, “Why kidnap me?”

The Joker moved a strand of loose hair out of your face, and you closed your eyes in fear. He moved a little closer to you before replying, “You’re going to help me conduct a little… social experiment. And this time, Batman won’t be able to stop it. He’ll actually help it spread, and I’ll show you just how fast they would turn on you. All of them.”

“That would never happen. I-I’m not like you,” You stuttered out in denial. The Joker almost always acts on his word, but your family wouldn’t abandon you. Neither would your boyfriend or friends. What exactly was he planning to do to you? Just thinking about it gave you the chills.

“They don’t know that,” The Joker pointed out. He laughed at your horrified expression before glancing at a golden watch on his wrist. He pointed at the time, 4:30, before stating, “Time really does fly when you’re having fun. I enjoyed our little conversation. We should do it again sometime.”

He suddenly jumped to his feet. You watched him gingerly step over some debris, and the Joker walked towards a door. He pushed it open with both his hands, and he shot you a grin before he stepped outside. Silence swept over the whole building as you thought about your encounter with Gotham’s most feared criminal. His last sentence sounded almost like this was a normal conversation.

“A great tragedy has occurred this afternoon,” The women said into the camera. Normally, the reporter would have put on a smile for the audience. However, this matter was much too serious. She couldn’t smile even if she wanted to.

“A school bus on Winchester Lane was bombed at two forty pm. Authorities say it was the work of the terrorist who calls himself, The Joker. Thirty children were on the bus at the time the bomb was detonated, and thrown into the back of the bus. Twenty three of the children were able to get out alive by escaping through the emergency exits with five of the students receiving serious life-threatening injuries,” She informed professionally.

She brushed a piece of hair from her face, and she cleared her throat before continuing, “Sadly, seven children were killed in the attack. The Gotham Police Department has reviewed the school’s surveillance footage, which reveals that the Joker himself was the one driving the school bus. No one knows the whereabouts of this so called “Joker”, or the school’s bus driver, (y/n) (l/n). I’m Rebecca Roberts, GCN News, reporting live from Winchester Lane.”

**Author's Note:**

> To Be Continued
> 
> —thedarknessdwellswithin


End file.
